Ezekiel and Jeremiah stopped at the end of the first flight. Honoree watched from behind a narrow strip of wood, but they blocked her view of the white men. It didn’t, however, prevent her from seeing the crowd surrounding them, her rent party guests. Quiet as mice, they seemed to be waiting for a cue to run, she imagined. The way Ezekiel and Jeremiah behaved told everyone these men were dangerous. The two brothers were also outnumbered and on their own.
“Ezekiel?” Honoree had breathed his name. He turned, but his eyes held so much violence, she shrunk a step away.
“Go to Kenny’s and take Bessie with you.”
“Go on,” Honoree said to Bessie, removing the girl’s small hands from at her waist. “Do as Ezekiel says.”
“Honoree, I was talking to both of you!”
“Don’t yell at me,” she said, but the deadly look in his eyes screamed this was not the time for her stubbornness.
“Fine.” She snatched hold of Bessie’s hand and climbed a few stairs until she reached her idea of a safe distance. Then she turned back to watch.
Dressed in long tweed coats, the white men hid their eyes beneath the brims of their fedoras. Only one of the men held his head up, his focus on Ezekiel. Stubs of black hair covered his face and neck, and an ugly gash crossed his chin. The same man limped forward. “Where is he?”
“Not here,” Ezekiel replied. The scarred man limped up the stairs, meeting Ezekiel halfway.
“Don’t lie.” The man sniffed the air. “His stink is filling my nostrils, or this part of town has enough colored stink here already. I can’t separate his stench from the rest of y’all. What do you think, Ezekiel?”
Honoree’s heart pounded wildly in her rib cage. Bessie now clung to her waist, her small fingernails digging into her flesh.
“Go on now. Go on over to Kenny’s,” Honoree said.
Bessie nodded feebly but didn’t budge. Honoree sighed and went back to watching Ezekiel.
With steady hands, Ezekiel pulled a pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket and brought a cig to his lips. He didn’t gesture for a light, but Jeremiah, with a flaming match in hand, a move that seemed practiced, lit his brother’s cigarette. Inhaling deeply, he drew the Chesterfield into his lungs. Ezekiel stepped down, one step, but still towered over the gimp.
The white man said something Honoree couldn’t understand, but the next part was a fire engine’s bell clanging in her ears.
“Tell Dewey, Capone ain’t gonna give him another warning. He’s still selling bootleg hooch, already enough to get him killed.”
“I’m not his keeper,” Ezekiel said.
“The only reason he’s alive is his brother. So tell Archie to take care of it.” He tipped his hat. Then he and his gang trekked back through the alley and into the dark.
Honoree slid from her hiding place but almost retreated as Ezekiel raised his voice.
“Fuck!” He faced his brother. “I’ll kill him.”
The murderous rage in Ezekiel’s voice might be unfamiliar, but his rigid frame made him appear capable of anything, of everything. God.
“Who were those men?” she asked, moving as close as she dared. “Why did Dewey come here?”
“Looking for my brother to save him, I wager.” Jeremiah’s gaze never left Ezekiel’s face.
“They followed him here.”
Ezekiel took off quickly with Jeremiah at his heels. Honoree wouldn’t get any answers standing on the stairwell. If Ezekiel found Dewey, it would be a disaster.
She had to stop him, make him talk, make him think before he killed a man. Pushing through the stunned crowd, she called his name, but Ezekiel and Jeremiah had disappeared into the night.
PART 4
CHAPTER 31
SAWYER
Monday, June 29, 2015
